


Carol of the Destiel

by shellygurumi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, Complete, Ficlet, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Holidays, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-12
Updated: 2012-12-13
Packaged: 2017-11-20 22:50:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/590525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shellygurumi/pseuds/shellygurumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fluffy Destiel ficlets based on Christmas songs or specific lines from Christmas songs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Winter Wonderland

> In the meadow we can build a snowman    
>  And pretend that he is Parson Brown    
>  He'll say, “Are you married?” We'll say, “No man,    
>  “But you can do the job when you're in town!”

Snow floated all about as they wandered through the park. Dean and Cas were bundled up tight against the cold weather, hats, scarves, gloves, coats, Cas even had snow boots on. Sam tried to convince them to wear one really long scarf between the two of them, but Dean drew the line at matching scarves. They walked arm in arm along the sidewalk, hands plunged into the pockets of their coats to stay warm. To their right was a pristine field of snow, unbroken but for the children playing further out. 

“What are they doing?” Castiel asked, watching the children.

“They’re having a snowball fight.”

“Oh...” 

“I guess you’ve never played in the snow, huh, Cas?”

“No, I haven’t. There’s never been an occasion to do so.”

“C’mon...” Dean veered off the sidewalk over into the snow, dragging Cas along with him. The angel teetered, then followed trekking through the tall drifts of snow.

“Are we going to have a snowball fight?” 

“Nah, let’s start with something easier. Besides, snowball fights are more fun with more than just two people.”

“Okay, what are we going to do, then?”

“Build a snowman.” 

Castiel released Dean when the man pulled away, stooping in the snow to pack two handfuls into a ball. Making a snowman couldn’t be difficult, Cas decided, after all, it had to be easier than building an actual man. He watched Dean closely. 

“Alright, we need to make three of these, one huge, one medium sized and one smaller one. The small one is the head.”

“What are the arms and legs?” Castiel picked up some snow and started packing it like Dean had done.

“Sticks for arms, no legs. Just a big round ball at the bottom.”

“How do we make it bigger?”

“Like this!” Dean said, stooping once again. He set his snowball on the ground and began rolling it. “Do the same with yours.”

“Alright...” Castiel squatted down beside Dean and began rolling the snowball the same way Dean did. Together, they shuffled forward, rolling their smaller snowballs into larger and larger balls, growing as snow added to it and leaving a trail of packed snow in their wake. Because they were both big guys and there was tons of snow in the field, the snowman was going to be huge. When Dean decided that the middle ball was big enough, they left it there and rolled the bottom one together, bumping shoulders as they stood side by side, pushing the snowball.

They assembled their snowman easily, Dean told Cas to pick up the middle section and directed him in placing it on the bottom. Then they rolled a quick head and set it on top of that. 

“I guess we need stuff for a face... You’re supposed to use coal, or something, but Sam and I just used rocks.” They hunted around for rocks and sticks to make the face and arms. Dean completely forgot about the carrot nose, because he and Sam never had food to waste on snowmen, even though they’d only ever made them once or twice as little kids. 

When they finished the snowman, both men stood back and looked over their creation. The face was a little lopsided, the arms were uneven and Dean wrapped his scarf around the snowman’s neck. “It doesn’t look much like a man...” Castiel said, tipping his head to the side.

“Sure it does, it’s just a little ... special,” Dean shrugged. “Whatever, it’s your first time and it’s awesome.”

“Should we name it?”

“Name it? Why?”

“Because that’s what the song says.”

“What song?”

“Where they make a snowman and pretend he’s Parson Brown.”

“I knew a Pastor Jim once.”

“Okay, now he has to ask if we’re married.” 

“Cas, come on, I think you need to stop listening to Christmas carols...” Dean gave Castiel a tug away from the snowman, laughing. 


	2. Ho Ho Hopefully

 

> Ho ho hopefully this holiday will make us believe that  
>  We're exactly where we're supposed to be  
>  And we're ho ho hoping that  
>  We all come back and as a matter of fact I know  
>  We're exactly where we're supposed to be  
>  Together by this Christmas tree

“I want to be a hunter,” Cas had said, smiling big and eager, not really knowing what it meant. Then later, at the nursing home, even when Dean offered to let him ride shotgun, because he’d done such a good job, Castiel said, “I can’t come. I want to stay.”

Dean pretended he didn’t care, but he did. Bobby was dead, Sam didn’t want to be a hunter anymore, Cas wasn’t around, Benny had run off, hopefully hiding and not killing anyone. Dean just wanted everything to be good again. He wanted his little family back, Team Free Will. All of the holiday crap didn’t help matters, commercials on all the TV stations talking about family and being together. He had to flip the station every time it went to break. Even the motels they stayed in were decorating.

Normally he liked Christmas, it was Sam who always got mad about it, complaining that they had crappy Christmases as kids. But it worked for Dean, he didn’t mind it so much. He taught Sam to appreciate it one year, but after they’d both been to hell and back then purgatory and Amelia... everything was broken.

So it was that on a cold Christmas eve, Dean and Sam were on a hunt and Sam was moping. They split up, Dean scoping out a house while Sam was impersonating a cop and doing research.

As Dean sat in the Impala, staring at the house across the street, he wished he was anywhere but there. He actually wished they could just take a night off and be a family, broken though they were, they were family and Sam and Cas were all he had. With a sigh and a I-can’t-believe-I’m-doing-this, he closed his eyes.

“Castiel... I know you tuned out Heaven and the Angels, but maybe you haven’t tuned me out... So I’m praying to you... It’s Christmas, man... and Sam’s in mood and you’re not here and I’m just. I don’t know, I just want everyone to be together. I don’t know if that’s too much to ask here, probably. Whatever,” Dean opened his eyes and scowled at the house. “I don’t know why I’m bothering...”

He finished his stakeout of the house. Nothing even happened, so it was a royal disappointment on top of being a waste of a good Christmas eve. Cranking up the Impala, Dean drove back to the motel. The lights were off when he walked up and opened the door.

“Sammy? You here? You better not be sleeping.” Just as Dean went to turn on the lights, a different set of lights flicked on. There, on the other side of the motel, Sam and Cas stood side by side around a pathetic little Christmas tree, dwarfed by their great height (it barely reached Sam’s waist) and the overly long strand of multi colored Christmas lights. The tree looked like it might fall over under the weight of the light strand and the half-assed tinsel that hung in huge clumps. Several strands of the silvery stuff was all over the floor and covered Cas’s trench coat.

“Merry Christmas, Dean,” Sam said, smiling brightly, looking like a big happy puppy.

“Merry Christmas, Dean,” Cas echoed with his own goofy I’m-badly-keeping-a-secret grin plastered across his face.

Half the lights on the tree flickered off. Dean didn’t even care. “Dude, seriously?”

“Seriously.” Sam confirmed.

“I heard you might need a little... Christmas spirit...” Castiel explained and Dean looked down, hiding his face, but nodding.

“Yeah, yeah, you heard right...” Dean approached, looking the tree up and down, then looking at his brother and Cas. He threw his arm around Sam, hugging his brother close. “Thanks, man.”

“Sure, Dean. You should thank Cas, though, he suggested it.”

Releasing Sam, Dean stepped over to Cas, set a hand to his hip, then pulled him in for a close embrace. One arm wound about the smaller man’s waist, the other around his back, holding his shoulder. He pressed his cheek to Cas’s and whispered a warm, “Thanks, Cas,” into his ear.

Castiel returned the embrace, not as self-conscious of Sam as either of them probably should have been. The younger brother simply looked away, smiling to himself. All of them were exactly where they were supposed to be, gathered together around this sad little Christmas tree.

**Author's Note:**

> There were going to be more of these, but then I got sick. :(


End file.
